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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039287">2 a.m.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcjime/pseuds/hcjime'>hcjime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:00:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23039287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcjime/pseuds/hcjime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Long distance relationships, Viktor realises as he stares at his computer screen waiting for Yuuri’s video call at two in the morning, are harder than he thought.</p><p>[or: in which yuuri and viktor are apart for a few months but that won’t stop them from being gross and in love]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>2 a.m.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/akram/gifts">akram</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Long distance relationships, Viktor realises as he stares at his computer screen waiting for Yuuri’s video call at two in the morning, are harder than he thought. They’re even harder when his fiancé is at his family’s home nursing an injured ankle and he’s by an ice rink thinking of everything they could be doing right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless—Viktor waited a year to find Yuuri. He can wait a few months to marry him. Probably. Maybe. He’s been seriously debating going on temporary leave to visit, but he can’t, not this close to the European championships with Yurio under his watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen lights up (</span>
  <em>
    <span>moya kotleka is calling…</span>
  </em>
  <span>) and Viktor gives himself precisely three seconds to fix his hair and pull his blanket a little more tightly around him before answering. Yuuri’s face is slightly too close to the screen—his eyes cross a little as he struggles to get Viktor in focus. “Hi,” he murmurs, and then, positioning himself slightly farther from the camera and adjusting his glasses, “I miss you.” Viktor thinks he might melt into a puddle or maybe just fall onto the floor and lie there for eternity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you so much more,” he replies instead. “You can’t even imagine.” Yuuri smiles, soft and wide and a little dopey, and Viktor feels his heart flutter like he’s a teenager all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s everyone over there? Is Yurio doing well?” he asks. Viktor beams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s on track to be chosen to represent Russia.” He rests his chin on his cat plushie and yawns, allowing himself to stare unabashedly at the way Yuuri’s eyes curve when he grins. “And once he gets one of those old hardass coaches instead of me, I can finally come see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri hums, running his hand through his hair—a habit he’s picked up from Viktor. “He can make it for the wedding, though, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drag him out of an awards ceremony myself if I have to.” Viktor’s head spins at the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>wedding</span>
  </em>
  <span>—soon they’ll be husbands and Yuuri will live with him all the time for good and he’ll probably never let go of him again. “Is your ankle healing okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Yuuri says, then, “not exactly.” Viktor knows if he says anything in the wrong tone, Yuuri’ll get nervous and change the subject too quickly for him to get a word in, so he stays quiet. “There were a couple complications. They’re, um, not sure if I’ll be able to skate for the next year at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Viktor replies. He suddenly wishes he could go to Japan right now, fold his arms around Yuuri and hug him until they’re both okay. He’s here instead, though, in Russia by a skating rink, so he just fiddles with his cat plushie’s ears. “I’ll get you my physical therapist when you come back home; he’s a miracle worker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuri smiles again but this time it’s washed out. “I might need a miracle, so let’s hope so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Viktor waits a beat before responding. “I think,” he begins, making sure to go slowly, “you’ll heal well. My therapist really is a miracle worker, you’re one of the strongest people I know, and you’re good at following the rules.” He pauses. “Sometimes. If you don’t have any vodka in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I barely ever get drunk,” Yuuri complains, but his smile is brighter. Viktor wants so badly to call him beautiful—and then it strikes him that he can because they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiancés</span>
  </em>
  <span> and they’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span> soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re beautiful,” he says. Yuuri freezes— blushes— buries his head in his hands like he does every time he gets a compliment. “You’re beautiful and you’re strong and you’re going to be an Olympic gold medalist and I’ll kiss you on international television.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” Yuuri groans, and his eyes are bright. “Thank you; that actually— that really helped.” Viktor hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things are always easy in the hours between midnight and dawn, when Yuuri can call and they can talk without students or family or other coaches taking time away from them. It’s easy to joke around with him, to remember their time training, to dream of their future together. It’s easy when Yuuri says he’s thinking of getting Vicchan a friend and Viktor says he’s enough of one for Vicchan’s lifetime. It’s easy until Yuuri sighs and mumbles, “I have to leave for the day. Call me tonight, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Viktor’s heart aches desperately, like it’s going to jump out of his ribcage and bleed onto his stupid computer. Every time they do this he wants to buy a plane ticket and refuse to come back to Russia until Yuuri’s by his side, but injuries and work and dogs are always in the way so he just beams. “I’ll call you tonight and I’ll text you a million times before then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t I’ll be mad at you,” Yuuri warns. Viktor laughs. Yuuri stares at him for a moment longer than he has to—Viktor is reminded for the millionth time that he’s ridiculously in love and he has been for what seems like a lifetime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise I will,” he says. “Pinky swear.” Yuuri sticks out his pinky and Viktor sticks out his own, both of them touching theirs to the screen. Someone offscreen yells </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurry up!</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Yuuri clicks his tongue against his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says, and it makes Viktor’s stomach flip even if it’s the millionth time he’s heard it, “and I’ll miss you.” They both know it’s not just the day he’s talking about—it’ll be weeks before they see each other in person, maybe months, but once they get married everything will be worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Viktor replies, resisting the urge to press a kiss to the screen just because he knows how embarrassed Yuuri gets at it. “And I’ll miss you more.” Yuuri beams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Text me as soon as you wake up, okay?” he asks, like he does every night, and Viktor nods, like he does every night too. “Goodnight, Viktor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Yuuri,” Viktor replies, and once he drifts off to sleep, he finds that it’s the first night of peace he’s had in awhile.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was my First Ever commission for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/akram">akram</a> go read their work!!! or look at their art on their <a href="https://twitter.com/04bkr">twitter</a></p><p>if you want to commission me, contact me on my <a href="https://twitter.com/satousugu">twitter</a>!! thank you sm for reading and i hope you have a lovely day !!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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